


Sir?

by HomewardBones



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Light Angst, Slight Dom Hotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomewardBones/pseuds/HomewardBones
Summary: Requested on Tumblr by an anon: Jealous Hotch(Hotch x F!reader)
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 155





	Sir?

You walked from the kitchen at the BAU into the bullpen, balancing three coffee mugs in your arms carefully. You placed one on your own desk before walking over and handing the second mug to Spencer, who happily accepted it. Your last stop was Derek's desk, who was slightly sitting on his own desk, talking to Hotch. "One coffee for a Derek Morgan." You said in a chipper tone. 

"Hey! Thanks princess, you read my mind." Derek's fingers gently grazed yours as he took the mug from your hands, you patted him on the shoulder like you always did as your way of saying no worries. 

Hotch eyed the way your fingers lingered on Derek's shoulder before you turned away to return to your desk. His eyes followed your every move, the way your hair moved with every step you took, the way your hips swayed, damn. It felt wrong of him to look at you in that way, but you made it impossible to be your boss. 

"Hey Hotch, you okay man?" Derek asked, taking a sip of coffee. 

"I'm fine, really." Hotch said, his words dripping with evident poison as he waled away from Morgan. Derek stood stunned, and just as he was about to call after his boss your melodic laughter rang in everyone's ears causing Hotch and Morgan to turn, both of them saw you and Spencer crouching down behind a computer monitor giggling together as Spencer flung another tiny ball of paper using a rubber band across the bullpen. 

Derek turned towards Hotch, who was clearly fuming, his eyes narrowed at you and Reid. His glare was so intense he didn't even notice that Morgan had moved to his hide and was brandishing a shit eating grin. "Come one man, now I know you're not okay. You're glaring a hole through pretty boy over there. You nearly shot daggers through me when (y/n) so much as touched me. Don't think I don't see you watching as she walks aw-"

"Don't profile me Morgan." Hotch warned.

"Look man, instead of getting your panties in a knot, why don't you go tell her how you feel?" 

"That would be inappropriate, you know that." 

"Know what? Go get her, tiger." Derek chuckled as he placed a heavy hand on Hotch's shoulder before heading back to his own desk. 

Hotch couldn't just approach you right now, he needed to gather his thoughts, and get away from the sounds of your laughter, laughter that wasn't because of something he said, but that damn _pretty boy_. He spent the rest of his day in his office, pacing, constantly sighing and rubbing his face, trying to figure out how he really felt. Every so often he'd look through the blinds of his office to get a peak of you as you worked on the stack of files that smothered your desk.

 _Damn it!_ Hotch thought, as he straightened his tie, smoothed back his hair, and tried to gather even the slightest bit of courage to talk to you in any other way other than in a professional way. 

The day was coming to an end and Hotch was running out of time to make his move on you, he knew that Morgan wouldn't let him live it down if he didn't. 

Hotch turned off the lights in his office and made his way down the steps and into the bullpen where you sat wrapping up the last few signatures needed to complete the files you were slaving over. You let out a sigh and brushed a bit of hair out of your face, but it fell back into place again. "(y/n)?" Hotch spoke, trying to sound as confident as possible, "Can we talk?" 

You looked up at him, smiling, "Yes, sir, everything okay?" 

A shiver went down his spine when you called him sir. It wasn't unusual for you to say it, but every single time you did it made his heart race. He watched your careful hands neatly stack all of your completed files on the edge of your desk, then reaching for your bag before standing up, to notice Hotch was particularly close to you. 

"Can we talk somewhere private?" 

"Sure!" You offered him a polite smile and walked with him away from the bullpen and into the kitchen to quickly rinse your coffee mug, "What's this about boss?" You said as you turned to face him, his face very close to yours, his eyes dark and serious. 

"H-Hotch?" There was something in his eyes that you tried so hard to read, but your mind wandered to his lips that kept twitching as if he was about to say something but couldn't find the words. His mind and heart were both racing, his palms started to sweat, all he could think of was what it would feel like to kiss you right now. 

"Look, (y/n) I just want to know if there's something going on between you and the other men on our team, and you will tell me the truth, now." He was stern and serious. 

"What? Why would I be involved with any of the men on this team? Is this about the coffee thing?" Your brows furrowed, trying to understand what crawled up Hotch's ass and died. 

"Don't lie to me, I see the way you flirt with Morgan and Reid, and the way you touch them, the way you laugh with them, the way-" You cut Hotch off by grabbing him by his suit jacket. You passionately crashed your lips against his, Hotch took you in his arms, lifting you up with ease and placing you on the counter, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist to keep him as close as possible. Hotch could feel the heat already radiating from you, the soft little moans that fell from your mouth into his, and the way your hands grabbed onto him desperately. You were driving him wild and the growing bulge in his slacks was letting you know.

You pulled away first for a breath of air, searching his eyes again, and before you could even speak Hotch spoke, "(y/n), I 'm sorry, this is out of line, I'll understand if you file a complaint against me, I won't be mad at all." his voice was filled with guilt and shame. 

All you could do was giggle, "Oh Aaron, if I knew that you were the jealous type I'd have flirted with the boys more often." You watched his face twist with irritation, and you knew you had him right under your thumb. "Tell me...Sir, did you really think I wouldn't notice the way you look at me, the death glares you gave any man I so much as smiled at?" You brought your lips to his ear, gently brushing over his skin, "Sir...I want you to tell me how you feel when you see me with another man, what you want to do...to me."

Hotch felt the bulge in his pants tighten as his hand gripped your throat, "It makes me want to bend you over my desk and take you right then and there, it makes me want to hear me name falling from your lips over and over." His hand tightened around your throat and a soft moan escaped your lips. "Aaron..."

As soon as the sound of you moaning his name registered in his ears he knew it was all over from there, "(y/n), I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional."


End file.
